I Believe In You
by LoversLie
Summary: Draco and Ron are two young men, escaping their own lives only to find that trouble will follow them on their way toward love and hapiness. Ron/Draco. Story contains slash and het pairings.
1. Prologue 1

Disclaimer:  I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, settings, or any former plots mentioned in the wonderful Harry Potter books.  All I own are any original characters, plots, and settings that I write.  The rest belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

Author's Note:  This is not a songfic.  This story is inspired by a series of songs by Linkin Park, Evanesce, and System of a Down that, when linked together in this order, form a story.  For each chapter, there will be a different song.  I will also post the lyrics with the chapter so that you, the reader, will understand the correlation between the song and what occurs throughout the story.  This story contains slash and het pairings.  Some of the pairings include Ron/Draco, Severus/Sirius, Harry/Hermione, Ginny/Colin, Fred/Angelina, and George/Katie.  I am also working on writing stories about the rest of the pairs I just listed but as for now, I'm only focusing on two couples at a time, and for those who have not read or particularly care for slash, it is not graphic.

Ch. 1A:  Easier To Run- Inspired by Linkin Park's "Easier to Run" from Meteora

It's easier to run/

Replacing this pain with something numb/

It's so much easier to go/

Than face all this pain here all alone/

Something has been taken/

From deep inside of me/

A secret I've kept locked away/

No one can ever see/

Wounds so deep they never show/

They never go away/

Like moving pictures in my head/

For years and years they've played/

If I could change I would /

Take back the pain I would/

Retrace every wrong move that I made I would/

If I could/ 

Stand up and take the blame I would/

If I could take all the shame to the grave I 

Would/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the vast walls of the secluded Malfoy Manor, in the private study of Lucius Malfoy, Draco was receiving a "stern talking to" for his recent and unsavory behavior. 

"Draco," began Lucius Malfoy, "why do you continue to disobey me?  It is bad enough that you were not top student for your year, but to be beaten by a fucking Gryffinfor mudblood!"  Lucius was now yelling.  "You've disgraced not only the Malfoy name, but purebloods the world over.  You won't even have the chance to redeem yourself."

            Draco had just completed his 7th, and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"You know that Master will not be very pleased with you."

Draco turned to face the fireplace as his father continued to talk of the greatness of his master.  It took all of Draco's self-restraint not to snigger as his father talked of on.  Despite how powerful Voldemort was he was no master of Draco.  Voldemort aroused no fear within him. His father might kiss Voldemort's ass, but he, Draco Malfoy, would never stoop so low.  In fact, for all he cared, Voldemort could go fuck himself.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Lucius asked impatiently.

Draco just continued to stare into the fireplace on the opposite side of the room, lost in his own thoughts.

            "Well," Lucius prompted his heir.  As Draco lifted his head to look at his father, he realized that his father's anger was palpable and ready to explode.

            "What can I say, the mudblood bitch is smart."  Draco winced as the words escaped his mouth.  Judging from the look on his father's face that had not been the answer his Lucius wanted to hear.  Hell, Draco thought that despite any answer he gave, it would never appease the situation in his father's eyes.

            Draco's piercing silver eyes suddenly widened in fear.  Fear was an emotion that only his father could arouse in the young man.

            Lucius pulled out his wand and muttered the ominous spell.  Draco knew it was coming.  This spell had been performed on him often enough; he knew all the signs.  His father would sigh, almost contentedly, then a sinister and sadistic smile would grace his face, finally, he would whisper the spell that Draco dreaded.

            "_Crucio_," Lucius muttered in a soft voice.  He watched as his son, his heir, his property began to writhe in pain.  

            "I'm hurting just as much as you are," he yelled over his son's screams, "I don't gain any pleasure by causing you pain."  Lucius laughed at his own joke.  He knew very well that he loved bringing pain to all creatures, especially his son.

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Narcissa Malfoy sat in the formal living room and looked through a large window, concentrating on the view of the numerous acres of Malfoy land.

            This was the one freedom she allowed herself.  This was the only time she was truly ever at peace with herself.

            -_I've never been there for him._

            Narcissa always tried to avoid think of the past and all of her mistakes.  It was just easier to run away from everything, rather than face it.

            -_I don't even deserve to be called his mother.  I'm quite sure he doesn't consider me as such._

            Throughout all of the 17 years of Draco's life, she had always turned a blind eye to the abuse Lucius undoubtedly caused her son.  It wasn't because of fear that she didn't stop Lucius, nor was it because she never felt something toward Draco; she just loved Lucius more.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Narcissa sat in the Slytherin common room, reading over her charms essay.  She had always had a knack for charms and took great pride in the fact that she was the top charms student within the fifth year class.

            Suddenly, the portrait door swung open, and through the opening came Lucius Malfoy, seventh year prefect.  He looked smug, haughty, and aristocratic.  Everything, from his sharply pointed features down to the way he walked screamed to everyone who had ever seen hi that he was a pureblood and was extremely proud of it.

            Narcissa stopped to stare at the Slytherin prefect.  He was handsome; there was no doubt about that.  His face was all sharp angles, with high cheekbones and pale skin, but what stood out most were his eyes, piercing silver that held a certain dangerous and wild essence.

            As her gaze lowered, she could imagine what kind of body must have been hiding underneath the layer of robes.  Lucius was keeper and captain of the Slytherin quidditch team.  All of there training obviously paid off, considering that one could tell, even through layers of clothing, that there lurked and almost god-like physic.

            Narcissa knew she was hooked as he looked toward her, obviously feeling eyes upon him.  The air of power that surrounded him was intoxicating.  As looked her in the eye and gave the infamous Malfoy smirk, she knew she now belonged to him, and so did he.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-_I don't even know who I am anymore._

            She had once been a person with her own thoughts and feelings, but that all changed when she met Lucius.  Of course she had suffered her fair share of abuse from the man, but Narcissa believed with all of her heart that he loved her as much as she loved him.

            In order to stop feeling the pain that Lucius caused, she replaced her emotion with numbness; an indifference that protected her from pain, but also hindered her from being the mother she should have been.  The only emotion that was allowed to spill through that uncaring cover she wore was the love she felt for her husband.

            Narcissa Malfoy was no longer her own person.  Her husband defined her.  Without Lucius, she was nothing.  No matter how many affairs he had, no matter how many times he had caused her pain, she need him in order to breathe; in order to live.    

            For a time, Narcissa had even gone as far as to convince herself that whatever torture Lucius bestowed upon she and her son was deserved.  She told herself that they needed to be punished for their insolent behavior. 

Then she'd heard it.  A piercing, tortured scream broke through her thoughts.  

_-That's Draco._

She had known that Draco had experienced the _cruciatus_ curse before, but nothing had prepared her for hearing his actual screams.

-And I've never been there for him.  I never held him.  I never comforted him.  And now, he is a man.

Draco was all grown up.  She had missed 17 years.  She had missed every milestone.  She'd missed his first word, his first crush, his first kiss.

-I don't even know who Draco is.

It was as if she had awakened from a long slumber.  She knew she could never go back and change the past, but she to do something to make up for it all.

Draco sat propped up on his bed looking around his sparse bedroom.  The décor was rather uninspired, even by Malfoy standards.  Everything, of course, was green with dark mahogany wood used for all of the dressers and the large bed in the center of the room.

The Malfoy held his hands up to his face.  They were still trembling from the curse that had been lifted only minutes ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flshback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco continued to scream through his father's little speech.  All he could feel was an all-consuming pain.  Though he had been through this before, he would never be used to the pain it caused, nor did he think he would ever be used to it.

_"You don't deserve the name Malfoy.  Malfoys are strong, and independent.  They are number one at everything they do.  Do you hear me?"_

_"Yes," Draco somehow managed to choke out through the throbbing pain that encompassed his body._

_"Who are you Draco?"  Draco could barely think through the pain._

_"Who are you?" Lucius yelled, kicking Draco in the gut simultaneously._

_"A Malfoy"_

_"Good boy.  What are you Draco?"_

_"Pure," came Draco's strangled reply._

_"Who do you serve Draco?"_

_"No One"_

_"What did you say?" Lucius roared._

_"No One."_

_"I will ask you one more time, and if you don't answer accordingly, I will kill you right here and now.  Who Do You Serve?"  Lucius made sure to stress every syllable._

_Draco thought about it, or thought as much about it as he could through all of the torture he was experiencing.  Death seemed almost merciful at the moment._

_"Lord Voldemort," Draco replied._

_"I thought you'd say that."_

_Lucius suddenly ended the curse.  Draco could barely move, the residual pain still resonating through his body.  _

_"Twinkie!" Lucius yelled.  Suddenly a very small, and, obviously, scarred house elf appeared in the room.  "Deposit this disgrace to his room.  I can't stomach to look at him right now."_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco could not remember how many times he had been beaten and put under foul curses because he was not enough of a Malfoy, because he was not cowardly enough to serve the great "Dark Lord."        

Ever since he had been young enough to understand language, he had been drilled in the area of the dark arts.  When he cried he was hit for being weak, when he wanted comfort he was pushed away.  Anger was all that he was supposed to feel.  Every other emotion, compassion, kindness, empathy, were all for the weak, which no Malfoy was.  

So Draco hid his emotions.  Of course he felt the hurt of being beaten by his father, of course he felt the hurt of never being loved by his mother.  But his emotions were his little secret, locked in a place that no one could find them.  All he let surface was the indifference, the numbness, and the anger.  All Malfoys had a cool and apathetic exterior, and that is what he, Draco Malfoy showed to the world.

Draco had once looked up to his father.  To Draco, he was the embodiment of power and manliness, and Draco aspired to be just like him for most of his life.  He believed that the Malfoys were a race apart, even among purebloods.  He believed that Malfoys held power and bowed down to no one.  Every beating and hex he had received, Draco had once believed he deserved, as long as it helped him become the Malfoy his father was. All of his images of his father changed when he accompanied his father to a death eater meeting.  When Voldemort called Lucius to him, he, Lucius actually bowed down to the ugly ass monster, and if that weren't enough, he actually kissed the hem of his robes as if he were some fucking god.

Draco's anger grew as he remembered what had taken place within Lucius' study what seemed a mere moments before.  

-_I can't believe I said I served that bastard Voldemort_.

Draco's anger only continued to grow as he remembered what his father had said about being a Malfoy.  In Draco's opinion, he was more a Malfoy than his father ever was and ever would be.

-_Malfoys don't serve anyone but themselves.  Malfoy don't bow before ugly ass dark lords like mere servants.  Malfoys are better than that.  Lucius is the real disgrace to the Malfoy name, not me.  I'll be a Hufflepuff before I ever serve that halfblooded motherfucker.  I have to get the fuck out of here before Lucius tries to make me ruin my flawless skin with that dark mark._

As Draco began drafting a plan, he heard a soft knock on his door.

"You house elves leave me the fuck alone," Draco yelled, annoyed at being disturbed.  

"Draco, it's me." Narcissa Malfoy entered his room.

"Hello "mother"," Draco said sarcastically, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I came here to apologize for never being there."

Draco let a slightly surprised expression briefly grace his features.  The surprise as his mother's apology soon turned to indifference.

"Why," Draco started, "you've never loved me.  You've always been a sorry excuse of a mother.  If this is one of those 'I always loved you-can we still have a relationship' speeches, then you should leave for it's far too late for that.  If not, tell me what you want and leave."

"You're right, I never exactly loved you, but you are my son, and though I've never been apart of your life, I want to help you," Narcissa replied dispassionately.

"Help me?"  If it weren't for the fact that he could use this chance confession of his mother to his advantage, he would've thrown her out already.

"Yes, whatever you need of me, I will help you, but only this once."

"Guilt is a very powerful motivator isn't it?"

"Yes, Draco, it is."

"O.K.  Let's cut the small shit.  I need you to help me escape from here.  All I need from you is some money, a safe house, and a plan to distract Lucius, I'll handle the rest." 

A/N-This is only the 1st of this 3 part prologue.  I have to fill you in on what is going on with each of the main characters before I actually continue to write more material containing the plot, and believe me this story has a plot.  This time is also a great time to mention that this will contain slash and heterosexual pairings.  I mean, it is the 21st century and everyone swings one way or another, or both.


	2. Musings

Disclaimer:  I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter. The End.  

A/N- The song I chose for this chapter is more about Ron's life than anything else, though the chapter does feature Draco.  I won't bother you with the whole song this time either.

My Immortal By Evanescence

I'm so tired of being here

Suppressed by all my childish fear

And if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears

And I held your hands through all of these years, 

But you still have all of me.

A/N- That's only part of the song, but I didn't think it was necessary to type the rest.  You are always free to listen to the songs yourself.

          It had been three weeks since Draco had last spoken to the women formerly known as his mother.  He assumed she was waiting for the right opportunity for his escape.  

"It's about time she does something for me.  It will certainly be the only time," he thought bitterly.

Of course, this didn't matter to Draco, for he was determined to leave Malfoy Manor, with or _without_ his mother's aid.

In all actuality, Draco Malfoy was scared.  He was not scared of the actual _escape_.  He was well aware of the deadly consequence of his actions if he were to be caught.  No, the actual escape did not frighten him in the least.  It was what he would do after his escape that still eluded him.  Up until recently, he had never thought past the safe house his "mother" was preparing.  Now, the thought of his future was haunting him night and day.

"Anywhere will be better than this bloody hell hole…even the fucking muggle world.  Maybe I'll contact one of those gits from…"

          Even as Draco thought about contacting one of his former housemates, he realized how utterly ridiculous that idea was. 

          Draco had no real friends, and trusted his housemates about as much as he trusted his father…none at all.  The Slytherins of his year, beside himself of course, had no honor.  Draco thought he could feel Salazar Slytherin turn in his grave as he witnessed what the Slytherin House had been reduced to.  Slytherin was no longer a house of respectable and powerful purebloods.  Slytherin House was just a breeding ground for little death eaters who have all the honor and grace of a Hufflepuff.  Slytherins were nothing but loyal dogs to that ugly, albeit powerful, bastard Voldemort.

          Thinking of his house had gotten Draco thinking about the school he had left only a short time ago.  Being conceited as he was, Draco laughed as he remembered how he'd taunt members of other houses, especially Gryffindors.  One Gryffindor stood out in his mind…Ronald Weasley.

          Despite what every bloody retard at Hogwarts thought, Draco's true "arch nemesis" was not Potter at all, it was Weasley.  It used to make Draco angry when everyone would automatically assume that he, Draco Malfoy, only tormented Weasley to get to Potter.  It made Draco sick to know that the whole population of Hogwarts thought that he would place so much on the Boy who quite unfortunately lived.

          This only fueled his hate for Potter.  His hate for Potter was nothing like the contempt Draco felt for the redhead.  When it came to Potter, Draco honestly wished him dead.  Potter was merely one of those annoying bugs that could be ignored some of the time, but you still want dead none the less.

          When it came to Weasley, Draco experienced an entirely different type of loathing.  He barred his teeth at the mere thought of the redhead.  The hate he felt toward the Gryffindor was one of the all-consuming variety.  With Potter, there was no emotion.  Most of the taunting he directed at Potter was just for show, but with Weasley, it was an entirely different experienced.

          It always made his day when he managed arouse intense anger from Weasley.  Not that this was very hard of course.  He sort of enjoyed the fact that he had the power to arouse such emotion in someone.  Maybe he was addicted to the amount of passion the redhead displayed when provoked.

When Draco actually took the time to analyze his contempt for Weasel, he always came to the same conclusion.  He assumed that he loved to hate Weasley because Weasley brought out emotion within him.  Of course, Draco never analyzed this emotion too thoroughly for fear of what he might discover.

"I wonder what that Weasel is doing right now.  He's probably shagging Harry Pothead." 

          Here again, things always came back to Potter.  Though he never really considered the Gryffindor his "rival," he could not and would not hide the fact that he loathed the mere mention of his name.

"Everything is always about Harry bloody Potter," Draco though angrily.

          Draco never could understand what it was about Potter, besides the whole savior of the wizarding world thing, which seemingly drew people to the annoying Gryffindor.  It was his personal opinion that Ron was far more interesting.

          He could never understand for the life of him how Ron Weasley would, or could possibly be lost in the shadows.  He was tall, passionate, and had all that bloody red hair.  How could he possibly be ignored?

"He's a shade better looking than Potter too," came a response from somewhere deep within Draco's subconscious.  

          Before Draco had time to get angry at himself for that unbidden thought about Weasley, he was interrupted by a knock at his door.

"Who's there?" Draco called out gruffly.

"It is me Draco," came a soft reply from the other side of the door.

"What do you want 'Mother'?"

Narcissa Malfoy stood in the doorway, staring at her only son.  She couldn't help but stare, for this would be the last time she really saw her son again.

"It's time, Draco," Narcissa said rather distantly.

"It's time?"  Draco was not sure exactly what his mother was rambling on about.

"It's time."  It was evident from the look on Draco's face that he understood exactly what his mother meant this time.

          Ron walked down the cobblestone pathway that led to the Burrow, his childhood home.  He left as soon as he'd graduated from Hogwarts.  This was the first time since he'd left that he'd bother to go back.

"I can't stand to look at them," Ron thought bitterly to himself.

The "them" he referred to was Harry and Hermione.  Ever since the trio had graduated from Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione had been living in seclusion at the Burrow.  This would not have bothered Ron so much if Harry and Hermione weren't _together_.

          For the short period of time that Ron had bothered to live with them, he would always have to excuse himself in their presence.  The sight of them kissing each other, and touching each other made Ron sick to his stomach.

          Ron thought that moving out, escaping to the muggle world might help him get over it, but, evidently, it hadn't.  He still thought about her everyday.  He remembered the way she smelled, the way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she said his name…he still remembered, and loved everything about Hermione.  He couldn't even look at any other women in a more than friendly way.

          Beside his memories of Hermione, he was also haunted by the betrayal of his best friend.  Everyone, especially Harry, knew of his feeling for Hermione.  Harry was the one who sat up with him late at night while he talked about how beautiful she was, and how he wanted to be with her.  Obviously, Harry was thinking the exact same thoughts, for at the start of their seventh year, Harry and Hermione began to date.

          Ron couldn't help but think that his best friend had stolen the only thing in his life that had ever made him happy.  Hermione had made Ron feel good.  

"Harry always got everything anyway.  Why should Hermione be any different?" Ron thought angrily.

          The only reason why Ron hadn't completely abandoned Harry after he began to date Hermione was because he remembered all the good times he'd had with his best friend.  No matter what happened, Harry would always be a brother to Ron.  He just couldn't help but hold on to the memories of what they had…but seeing them together was torture.

          He couldn't stand to look at Hermione.  She was a constant reminder of all the things that he would never have, would never be.  When Ron looked at his love, he knew that he would never have love or happiness…or attention. 

          Sometimes, Ron would daydream about what it must be like to be admired.  He often imagined he was his "best friend," Harry Potter.  He wanted what Harry had.  He would be willing to risk it all, even his life to have the one thing he knew he would never have…Hermione.

          The unfortunate thing was that Hermione had no idea how Ron felt about her, and Ron seriously doubted that she'd care if she did.  She wouldn't care that no matter what she's done or how she's changed, she'd still have all of Ron.

          Ron, lost in his own thoughts, didn't realize that he was standing at the front door of his childhood home until the door opened with Harry greeting him.

A/N- The next chapter, which will be coming far sooner than this one did, will have a little surprise in it.  I thought I should make this chapter longer but it would ruin the effect of the next chapter if I didn't end this here.


End file.
